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Summary
Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are Hospital Wing regulars. They should really stop meeting there.
Gently, the hand at the back of hers slipped away, and the palm against hers withdrew down. Her hand felt cold and tingly. She struggled to find her voice. Her throat felt dry.
“You can take one of those every four hours. No more than four in twenty-four hours,” she croaked.
“Right.” His voice was unreadable. They stood in silence for another long pause. “Well,” he concluded, “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” said Hermione, trying to sound breezy. Seriously, Hermione, she chastised herself, how many times do you think you’ll both be meeting up in the Hospital Wing? This isn’t a date. You’re not having a midnight rendezvous. You’re just having the first (and hopefully weirdest) menstrual period of your life.